“I’m going to go make some tea. You want anything?”
Yuri fought back a pout when Otabek stood up from the sofa. He had been so warm and nice to lean against while they watched television, and Yuri shifted back towards the arm of the couch. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “No, I’m good.” It took about five seconds after Otabek walked away before Yuri was turning around, knees pressing into the back of the couch, staring at Otabek as he moved around the kitchen. Filling the kettle with water, shuffling through the cabinet then dishwasher for his favorite mug, letting the tea steep and just leaning against the counter with this goddamn peaceful look on his face.
It had been six days. Six days Yuri had been in Almaty, and they had been perfectly wonderful, beautiful days, because he was with Beka. After months and months of nothing but video calls and Whatsapp texting, he could hold Beka, kiss Beka, see Beka’s smile right there in front of him instead of on a grainy computer screen. And it was great. Of course it was great. They held hands, cuddled on the sofa, cooked dinner together. The second night Yuri had met his entire family, Otabek’s grandparents had had this giant meal where everyone came, and they all hugged Yuri and doted on him and made him feel totally accepted. One night, Otabek had DJed at a club. Yuri hung out with him in the booth and Beka’s bartender friend made Yuri extra strong drinks and afterward they had street food that they licked from their fingers and then they made out against the brick wall of Otabek’s apartment building. That had been Yuri’s favorite night.
He had been sure something would happen that night, and then fucking nothing.
Yuri heard Otabek start to pour the tea, and he knew he had to do something. Quickly, not giving himself time to be nervous, Yuri yanked his tiger-print leggings down and kicked them to the floor, leaving him in just his underwear and the oversized t-shirt he’d been wearing to lounge around in. He adjusted the position of his legs several times. Spread was far too to the point, elongated over the length of the sofa was far too draw me like one of your French girls- instead, he ended up just folding them under his self, pale knees and creamy thighs poking out from under the black tee.
When Otabek came back, he took one look at Yuri, stumbled and splashed his tea on the floor. He sent the mug down on the table, staying still and bent over and staring at the table for a moment longer than normal. Then he stood, not looking directly at Yuri. “Is it- warm? Do you need me to turn the fan on or-?”
Yuri reached out and grabbed his boyfriend, tugging him down next to him. Otabek’s hand landed on Yuri’s bare thigh, hot, heavy and good. He started to move it away, but Yuri put his own hand on top of it. “Okay, Beka,” he said. “What’s the deal? Don’t you want to fuck me?”
Otabek blushed. He couldn’t meet Yuri’s eyes, choosing instead to stare at the floor. His fingers wiggled and then interlaced with Yuri’s. “Of course I do,” he said softly. “I guess we should talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Yuri said, leaning in to be closer to him. He lay his cheek against Otabek’s. It was warm, and he hadn’t shaved in a day so it was scratchy. Mmm. He started to press soft kisses down Beka’s neck. “I’m just so glad you actually want me. I was starting to get worried.” His hand moved from where it was laced with Otabek’s to the fly of his boyfriend’s pants.
Two strong hands on Yuri’s shoulders, and he was being pushed back. Now there was eye contact, and Otabek looked so serious. Yuri automatically sat up straighter. “It is a big deal deal, Yura,” he said. “I don’t want us to rush into anything we’re not ready for.”
Yuri rolled his eyes. Of course, Otabek was always worrying about them. “Beka, really? I’ve known you for over two years. We’ve been together-together for four months. I love you. You love me. That’s far more ready than I ever was with anyone else.”
At his words, Otabek noticeably stiffened.
“You’ve…” He coughed, and tried to relax his posture. It didn’t work. “You’ve been with others?”
“What? Oh.” Yuri slumped back into the cushions. “Is that what this is about? You thought I was a virgin so you were all worried about me being ready.” He took ahold of Otabek’s shirt collar and pulled him close. Otabek let himself be tugged along, pulled to Yuri’s lips as they opened, kissing him wet and messy as Yuri’s hands migrated down to Otabek’s ass. Otabek let out a little moan, then stilled.
“Wait, wait,” he mumbled against Yuri’s lips. “So wait, when you say you’ve been with people before, do you mean- the whole thing? And when was this?”
“I mean, what thing?” Yuri asked, now feeling more than a little frustrated. Why did Beka just want to talk? Yuri thought he had made it pretty clear that he was cool with what was going on. And he could feel Beka now, with how their legs were slotted together, hard against his thigh. “Don’t be jealous or anything, Beka. They were all a long time ago, if you really have to know. The first was...okay, I’m not proud of it, but I was a fourteen year-old guy and there were all of these girls throwing themselves at me. What was I supposed to do? I learned not to get involved with Angels after that, though. Not worth it. That was the whole thing, though, I guess. But with a girl, so that’s kind of different.”
“Have you not been with a guy?”
This time, Yuri blushed. It was a little embarrassing, talking about people you had slept with in the past with the one person you really wanted to sleep with now. “You really want to sit here and talk about other people we’ve been with?” Otabek paused for a moment, but then nodded, so Yuri continued. “Fine. There was that Angel, bad idea. Then there was this German skater at Junior Worlds, Hanna Sommer? Then when I went to Skate Canada I had been messaging some guy online for a while and we met up, because I was curious. Did the whole thing, since you obviously want to know. So I know what I’m doing. And I haven’t done anything since.”
Because then I met you, Yuri didn’t say. And then I didn’t want anyone else.
“So what about you?” Yuri asked. “I just spilled all of my secrets, what about yours?”
“You have to tell now,” Yuri said, finger pointing. “It’s only fair.”
“I would,” Otabek said. He was squirming, looking embarrassed where he normally looked stoic and composed. “It’s just- it’s just, well, there’s nothing to tell.”
Yuri was suddenly flooded with embarrassment for just how poorly he had read all of Otabek’s cues. The shyness, the nervousness, the inability to even really say the words. Still, it didn’t seem right. How could- he was older than Yuri, always seemed so experienced, so cool. He couldn’t actually mean-
“You’re not a virgin,” Yuri said.
Otabek pressed a hand to his face, hiding behind it in embarrassment. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”
"Like, with everything?"
“But,” Yuri said, in actual astonishment. “But you’re so hot.”
At this, Otabek laughed, and lowered his hand, and he couldn’t help the real smile that spread over his face. “I’m afraid that has little to do with it, Yura.” He held out his arms, and Yuri wasted no time in climbing into them, cuddling up close to his Beka, resting his head on his chest and closing his eyes. Otabek dropped a kiss on his head. “Are you upset?”
“Don’t be stupid, Beka,” Yuri said. “I was being an idiot. When you said it was a big deal, I shouldn’t have just blown you off like that.”
“But I thought that’s what you wanted to do?” Otabek said, keeping his face completely straight. Yuri leaned back his head and stuck his tongue out, and Otabek stroked his hair. “I should have told you. I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I thought it would come naturally, but I just kept getting freaked out at times when it looked like it was about to happen. I’m sorry.”
“We can take it slow,” Yuri said. “I just wanted to be with you. I just wanted to know...you know. That you wanted me.”
“Of course I want you, Yura,” Otabek said. “God, I want you so much. I-”
Yuri ran his fingers up and down the length of Otabek’s side, letting them move up under his shirt so he could lay his palm down flat on his chest. “So why don’t we start there?” he asked, looking up at Beka, whose eyes were so warm, so full of love and awe that Yuri couldn’t help but crawl up to lay a soft kiss on his lips. He held him gently by the neck, stroking his jaw with the pad of his thumb. “You tell me what you want. What you’ve thought about? You have thought about me, right?” He smiled as Otabek leaned his forehead to rest against his own.
“Yes, Yura. Very much- yes.”